The Silent Songbird (Hagenheim #7)(46)

John Underhill turned to leave. Westley opened his mouth to speak but ultimately said nothing.

Sabina smiled slowly as she stared at Westley, her eyes trained on him even as she started walking back the way she had come.

Evangeline lowered her bow and arrow and let the string go slack.

“I . . . I don’t know what to think anymore,” Westley said softly, “but John has been my friend for a very long time.” He rubbed his temple, near where John had struck him, and closed his eyes. “I just don’t remember what happened. I wish I did, but I don’t.”

“Perhaps your memory will come back to you.”

“Perhaps.” Westley let out a heavy sigh. “Either way, I think you should not go anywhere alone.”

“Me? You are the one he wants to harm.”

“Perhaps you only saw someone who looked like John. I stopped a man from beating his wife a day or two before I fell in the river. Perhaps he was the one who struck me. He had the same blond hair as John, now that I think of it. But either way, you should not tell anyone what you saw. If someone is trying to harm me, they should not hear that there was a witness to their actions.”

“No one believes me, so I think I am safe.” She gave her words a wry tone. “Even if I am mistaken—which I am not—and the two men I saw try to harm you were not John Underhill and his servant, if you do not agree to take precautions, I shall be forced to follow you around with my bow and arrows.”

“Ha!” He cocked his head to one side and frowned. “How in the world did you get Reeve Folsham to teach you how to use a bow?”

“I asked him.”

“After you cut him with the scythe, I didn’t think you were his favorite person. But you seem to have won him over.”

“I did him a good turn. When a barrel of ale was about to fall on his head, I pushed him out of the way.”

The look of admiration in his eyes and slight smile made her heart flutter.

“I think he also wanted to help me after what happened to me two nights ago.” She lifted her face to the sun, which was high overhead. “I also wanted to learn how to sword fight. I don’t suppose that would be helpful, however, since I don’t own a sword.”

He smiled at her. “No, I don’t suppose it would be.”

As she stared at his perfect teeth, a glint of suspicion shone in his eye. He wasn’t sure if he could trust her. She couldn’t blame him, perhaps, but it felt like a challenge, to win him over the way she had won over the reeve. Someday, Westley le Wyse, you’ll be offering to teach me how to sword fight.

“And now it is time for the midday meal, so we should go.”

She took the bow and arrow and stowed them away in the inside corner of the oat barn. When she came out, Westley was standing in front of her.

“I’ve never had anyone defend my life before. You looked as if you would have shot John if he had gotten any closer to me.”

“I would have. And you should take it more seriously. He could have been hiding a knife, just hoping to get you alone and then kill you with it.”

His eyes were gentle but searching.

“I should go.”

“After the meal, will you come and read a bit?”

She nodded. “I need to give my ankle a rest.”

As they walked back together, he said, “And when you’re rested, I want you to answer my question about Lord Shiveley.”

“You asked me earlier if I was betrothed.” Her heart pounded. “I am not. But it is true that Lord Shiveley’s men may be looking for me.”

He was silent for a moment. “Perhaps later you will explain.”

And perhaps you will forgive me when I choose not to explain.



Evangeline sat amid the pillows behind the castle, her back propped against the stone wall. She read from the Latin Bible while Westley read from the English version. The problem was that she only understood most of the words in Latin. She glanced over at Westley.

He looked up. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t understand some of these Latin words. Do you think I could . . . That is, do you mind . . . ?

“Do you want to read the English one?”

“I don’t want to take it away from you, of course.”

“We can read it together. Which book were you reading from?”

“I was about to start reading the book of Ruth, but I can read whatever you are reading.”

He stood and carried the book closer, then sat beside her. “Shall we take turns reading aloud?”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

He found the book of Ruth and let Evangeline read the first chapter. It felt strange to read the Holy Writ of God in the common language, but after a few verses, she lost herself in the story and ceased to think of the language she was reading it in. She handed the book back to Westley, and he started the second chapter in his even, masculine voice.

Evangeline read the third chapter. She read about Ruth going to the threshing floor where the men were sleeping, uncovering Boaz’s feet, and lying down beside him. Evangeline stopped.

“What is it?”

“It seems strange that she would risk her reputation as she does. Why does she lie down with a man when he’s with his workers at the threshing floor? How does she know she can trust him?”